I hual, U-haul, We all Haul

I'd like to think that I am a pretty normal person, but then I look at my life over the past month and realize no sane person would ever put themselves through what we did. My excuse is always that it was circumstantial and if we had to do it over again we wouldn't have it any other way. But pull yourself together Rylee, there is no way to rationalize these life choices.

Tim and I woke up the morning after our wedding and went to the Uhaul location in Downtown South Bend at their opening hour, 9AM like all the normal people dream of doing the first day of marriage. Uhaul is a crazy institution and we had to go to a different location in Elkhart (remember that Indiana towns are further apart...) to pick up the trailer that goes with it. So we did a little swap; he dropped me off at the barn and his dad went on the trailer adventure with him.

At the barn I helped our family and friends finish washing dishes, break down tables and chairs, and gut the whole place to return it to the pigs to whom it belongs. At this point Tim was supposed to be back with the truck so we could go to the many storage units we have rented across town (grandma Lois' garage, Michelles guest room, Colleen's basement, Kregg's garage, my dads warehouse, my family's living room, bed room, other bedroom, closet, furnace room, and exercise room, let alone all of our wedding gifts still at the barn). Needless to say we had a lot to do, but every adventure in our life makes absolutely no sense so OF COURSE we had a truck without A/C. Now stop. And imagine our trek from South Bend to Boston without air conditioning as we drove our maximum 55mph. Total disaster on par with the DC Hurriquake of 2011. So a third trip back to the original Uhaul store and we had the transportation devices we had paid big money for...5 hours late.

My dad and I went to the warehouse as Tim and his family started loading up at one of the many store houses. We obviously finished first so we went to bring everything home, in one place. One disaster after another, it hit me that we needed to return the tuxes. The Kenney men were all loading our Uhaul and the Magee men were either on a flight to Florida or unloading the barn, so guess who rounded them all up? I had Tim's in our car and I gathered my dad's and brothers before heading to the apartment where the Kenney's stayed to match shoes with bags and make sure each set had a pocket square. Next thing you know I am making my second trip into the Men's Warehouse (those suckers are heavy with all those pieces!) and the absurdity of the whole day hit me. It was past dinner time and I hadn't seen my *husband* since 10AM. I was returning every single tux of a wedding party, of my wedding party. On a day that should be relaxing and enjoying marriage and sharing joyful memories of the night before I was struck by the craziness of standing inside a men's clothing store as they accounted for each item in each bag where no one knew I was the bride. I was kind of like when you go to work on your birthday and your internal dialogue looks a little like this, 'no one here knows it's my birthday. Should I tell them? No, that conversation only gets awkward. But it's weird, I feel like someone should know. But I don't want to seem like I am looking for attention, but maybe I am looking for attention. I just want to be celebrated dang it!' My personality always errs on the side of never telling. So I left the store, laughing to myself, realizing that this is not normal at all.

After Tim's brothers helped load everything from all the different locations, they brought our beast to my families house where we feasted on wedding leftovers and enlisted all of my family members to carry everything from inside to out turning out front lawn into a sunset yard sale and load in whichever way they were directed. 

*Our redeeming moment of sanity is that we had a small army of help because we did this the day after marriage*

The whole rest of the packing was organized chaos. 

Organized: Our mothers made sure every fragile item had a secure home.

Chaos: When unpacking, nothing made sense or matched what was written on the boxes.

Organized: Packing with the Kenney men means everything gets tied together with twine.

Chaos: When you unpack, everything seems to be twisted together. Make sure your only pair of scissors aren't packed.

Organized: Also packing the car completely full to make sure everything would fit.

Chaos: The car riding so low that the door will not open for the driver to get in or out.

Organized: Climb out the sunroof and create a make shift sunroof of cardboard, plexiglass, and duck tape.

Chaos: It pours the whole state of Ohio so you are paranoid and check the "roof" at every stop.

Organized: Utilizing every ounce of man power you can find.

Chaos: Risking that your siblings last feeling toward you before you leave town is hatred.

Organized: Packing everything we own into one two vehicles successfully in one day.

Chaos: Finishing well into darkness and using flashlights to find lost keys in the grass.

Organized:Letting your wife drive this monster successfully across the entire state of New York.

Choas: She wakes you up at every toll because she can't reach for the wallet as she is afraid to let her hands leave the wheel.

Organized: Lots of down time in the car meant reading wedding cards and audio books.

Chaos: Lots of down time in the car meant repeatedly listening to Taylor Swift Musical Cards.

Organized: Successfully getting all of our belongings to our new home on a budget.

Chaos: Using this entire post to drive this fact home.

Sane we are not but operation marriage and relocation in a matter of three days was a success sooo...was it a good idea? No. But we made it so that counts for something right?

(I thought seeing that written out would make me feel better about our decisions but after an evening spent blogging this post, me thinks there's no hope)